In Her Youth
by Echo the Nymph
Summary: Lijanora Tara has left Harlindon behind her, and gained a strong friendship... Yet troubles are still to come...
1. They Meet

In Her Youth  
  
Echo the Nymph  
Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien's characters.  
  
  
Years had passed,  
And taken the elf-friend to Mandos.  
Yet hope there still was.   
Hope that ran from the forests of Harlindon  
To the north and west,  
To elf-lands and an elven-home.  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 1  
  
  
  
Lord Elrond sat quietly, remembering the elf-friends of the past. It had been many years since the last one of centaurs had gone to the Halls of Mandos. He sorely missed Prairie Song and Sacred Smoke, yet knew from deep within that more would come of their people. Then a young voice reached his ears; a voice that was singing.  
  
"In their company was a Dunedain..."   
  
The elf-lord started. It was the Song of the Ring! Sacred Smoke Tinuviel hadn't taught it to any but him. Could this be a member of her family; as she had foreseen? He rose to his feet, brushing a leaf off of his shirt. The vibrant green of the trees was ignored as he followed the voice.   
  
"His life they saved by the skill of an elven-lord.  
The story of the Ring told. A dwarf attempted  
To destroy..."   
  
Elrond slid on pale moss, yet managed to keep himself upright. Subconsciously, he brushed back a lock of his brown hair, wishing that he had worn his headpiece. The trail was steadily getting rougher as he continued yet giving up wasn't an option.  
  
"Lothlorien became their refuge for a time,  
When the Lady of Light bid them farewell,  
Water bore them away..."  
  
He slid on loose gravel and fell. The elf got to his feet, ignoring his bruised pride. The singer wasn't any nearer yet and it didn't help the path he was on either.  
  
"The darkness, still it lingered,  
Held by Dark Huntresses.  
By such power, the One re-forged..."   
  
The elf lord struggled on like a man enchanted. It had been so long since he'd heard a huntress sing. She wasn't on the level of Prairie Song or Sacred Smoke, but was talented enough to be a healer.  
  
"...but only eight of nine alive.  
The gem shone upon their journey to the `Dell,  
There friends of her mother were met.  
A green fire-flyer always at her side..."   
  
Finally, the path leveled out, allowing him a descent stride. She was much closer now, and he was approaching a clearing. The thinning trees were enough to tell him that. At last, he halted on the clearing's edge. The sight that met his eyes made him stop and stare in wonder.  
  
Her graceful Arabic build perfectly hid the strength he knew lay within her. The light of the sun danced off her red bay coat, revealing legs as red as the rest of her save one. It was white. She bore a semi-leopard pattern that was beautiful in its simplicity. Bright blue eyes were not focused on him, yet stared off into the distance as she frisked about. The style of her shirt gave away the fact that she was a princess of her people.  
  
Leather hide, cured dark with a v-shaped hemline on both the lower and upper areas. As the shirt was short, a custom in the warmer months, her well-toned abdomen showed easily.  
  
"Huntresses rallied, the races before them  
Called again to the Crystalline Fields.  
  
Many long battles they fought   
Against the forces of Mordor.   
At last, they the final blow struck,  
The One Ring cast back into the fire,  
Balance restored."   
  
Lijanora Tara stopped gracefully, her raven black tail plumed, held in the slight breeze that blew. Her eyes widened when she noticed the elf. His regal bearing caused her to ignore the dirty, rumpled clothes he wore. Brown hair fell over his shoulders, yet the sides were pulled back. His gray eyes met her blue ones easily, yet in them she saw the wisdom of many Ages.  
  
Lord Elrond realized that he should say something, or she would most likely run off. "Sina dosena. E'ra Lord Elrond. Nanar siy sonyar nuella?" The language flowed easily from his mouth, as he hadn't forgotten a single word of it, even after years of not being able to use it in conversation.  
  
She blinked, surprised. Few elves knew the tongue of her people, and those that did were of the line of Earendil. This elf lord was a friend to her ancestresses. "Corta anyo, Lord Elrond." The huntress bowed politely. "Mi nuella siy Lijanora Tara. E'ra sho merama ali Keroh Thunderbird." Her voice was soft, musical. It nearly brought a smile to his face. That voice seemed to have come from across the seas, blessed by the Lord of the Waters.   
  
Then, he voiced the question on his mind. "Di sonya tia ablea?"   
  
"Siya. Di sonya mira le?" She queried. Slowly, she closed the distance between them so that they could speak to eachother more comfortably. Indeed, this was the elf-lord that had been the friend of her family in the Second and early in the Third Ages. There was nothing to fear from him. 


	2. Elafa feyla

In Her Youth  
  
Echo the Nymph  
Disclaimer: Don't own Tolkien's characters.  
  
The child that had fled   
From her forest home  
Stood before the elf-lord  
Of Imladris.   
In his eyes was a wisdom  
Of the Ages and in hers  
Was the Light of Aman.  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 2  
  
  
  
  
  
Elrond returned her gaze with ease. He felt like he was speaking to his friends of old once more. "Denara mi kindari, siya. Biyn sho Riharan."   
  
She nodded then her eyes spotted another. "Lord Elrond, who is that?" Her tone bore confusion. She had never seen the Rangers of the North before, nor one that had such a hidden majesty.   
  
He followed her gaze aned held in a smile. "He is a Ranger of the North, part of the Reminant of Numenor. We call him Estel. Many know him as Strider. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Chieftan of the Dunedain."   
  
The huntress heard the well-hidden affection in his voice. The elf had raised this man as his son. Then it came to her. He was Isildur's Heir. And in her heart she felt he was the one to reunite the lands of Eriador.   
  
Aragorn changed his direction when he spotted Lord Elrond in the meadow. The Ranger masked his surprise about the centaur filly easily. Then, he took in his foster-father's appearance. He nearly burst out laughing. Never before had he seen Elrond so filthy and rumpled. It must've been a rough climb. After all, it had been years since he last walked that path.  
  
Lightning Bird spun suddenly, sensing a darkness that she didn't like.   
  
"What is it?" Elrond inquired.   
  
"Danger, I sense danger."   
  
Her reply caused Aragorn to sprint over, his hand on his sword. He was the only one armed. The huntress was young, and yet untried. They trained their eyes into a darkened area of the wood.   
  
"Uroc." She hissed. The elf-lord tensed, knowing what she meant.   
  
An arrow whined through the air, prompting Lightning Bird to knock the Dunedain aside. The arrow struck her left front shoulder, nearly causing her white foreleg to give out. Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself back up.   
  
The orc growled in anger and fired again.   
  
Lightning Bird shielded Elrond, taking the arrow in her hindquarter. Aragorn let out a strangled yell as the orc showed himself. His sword flashed in the sunlight as he wielded it expertly.The orc didn't even know what hit him as he fell to the ground, dead.   
  
"Lightning Bird, hold on!" Lord Elrond steadied her for her legs were near to giving out. His gaze shifted to the Ranger. "Estel, we must get her to Rivendell. She save our lives."   
  
Aragorn came up on her left side and gently supported her. Together, they made it back to Imladris. The appearance startled a few of the elves; as they hadn't seen centaurs since the day after Sacred Smoke went to Mandos. They managed to get her into Elrond's house and to a bed before she lost consciousness.   
  
Elrond pulled out the arrows and wrinkled his nose at the scent of the poison. "Even if his aim had been off, we would've been dead in thirty minutes." There isn't much time.   
  
The sounds of a Sindaran chant reached through to her subconsciousness. Lightning Bird somehow understood what he was saying. She flinched when a hot, stinging liquid was poured into her wounds. The stinging died away as they were stitched back together.   
  
Mutters rose from her, one clear enough for them to hear. "E se Roja Wrejas." She then moaned as they finished.   
  
Both retreated from the room to let her rest. After Lord Elrond had cleaned up, he found Gandalf waiting for him.  
  
"Lord Elrond, has something disturbed you?" He queried.  
  
A sigh escaped the elf before he could stop it. "I didn't realize that huntresses wandered so far anymore. I believe she could be related to Prairie Song and Sacred Smoke." He guided the wizard to the room to show him. "This afternoon, she saved both Estel and myself from poisoned arrows."   
  
Gandalf walked into the room, gazing at her intently. Her fire was very much like theirs. "She is descended of them. What is her name?"   
  
"Lightning Bird." Elrond supplied, coming into the room. The huntress showed signs of waking, clenching the cream colored blanketsin her hands. "I think she's fourteen years old."   
  
"You are a good judge of centaur age, for fourteen she is." Gandalf confirmed. He backed away, out of her line of view just as she woke. Her attempt to sit up was stopped by Elrond.  
  
"Easy, Lightning Bird. The arrows you took for us were poisoned." He declared.   
  
Her eyes narrowed as she felt the stitches holding the wounds closed.   
  
"Don't worry,with the swift healing huntresses possess, those should come out in a few days." Elrond helped her sit up, causing her to draw in a sharp gasp. Tears gathered in her eyes, blurring the view of the room. A cup was gently pressed into her hands. "It is athelas. The plant will help kill the pain."   
  
Lightning Bird smiled before starting to drink it. Her instincts told her that she could trust him with her life and more. He was truly a friend to all who lived in the light. 


	3. Angry Father

In Her Youth  
  
Echo the Nymph  
Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien's work.  
  
  
Days passed since the attack,  
A wandering child recovered.   
Still, in the elven home she was watched,  
By an ancient fellowship.  
Thus her father knew where she'd gone,  
And anger became of him.  
Yet she'd earned the trust and friendship  
Of the Eldar,   
And ever to them could she go at need.  
  
  
Chapter 3  
  
  
  
  
Lightning Bird stretched her still limbs gently. Erring on the side of caution, the elves had kept her on with them for observation as they didn't know what other effects that poison could have on a centaur. Now she had recoverd, and was ready to set out for Harlindon once more. "I hear you." She turned around, meeting Elrond's gaze.   
  
"Not many can hear an elf. Why did you come so far north in the first place?" He queried, approaching her.  
  
The huntress shrugged. "I wanted to see more than the Forest of Harlindon. Like Sacred Smoke, I have a bit of a wander lust. Plus the fact that spending my life learning how to govern and governing the Colora Riviera wouldn't do any good if I didn't know what could happen." Her tone had dropped, showing something amiss.  
  
"It sounds like the choice was made for you."   
  
"It was. The people choose one they feel is suited to inherit leadership. They felt it was me." She fell silent, listening. I don't like it when the watch me. Even though this one isn't of my people, my father knows what I've done.   
  
"Lightning Bird?" Elrond's voice snapped her back to reality.  
  
"I feel we are being watched." Her tone was cautious and soft. It was as though the one watching them had elven hearing. "I'd better go. My father isn't the most patient centaur, and right now he's furious." The huntress turned to go, and was lightly restrained.   
  
Lord Elrond walked around to face her again. "Lightning Bird, you have proven yourself worthy of trust when you saved Estel and myself. I call you an elf-friend. And this is the symbol of that friendship." She held incredibly still as he fastened a silver chain about her neck. Lightly she touched the star suspended from it. "If you must go to your home, go in peace."  
  
Lightning Bird nodded, knowing that she was already in for it. "Tilla sebin." He repeated her farewell as she pivoted about and vanished into the wood. Her homeward journey through the soft green woods and vibrant green grasslands took much less time than when she had set out.  
  
Finally, the trees of Harlindon loomed into her view. My father isn't going to be happy with me, that I know. How could the elves be dangerous when they were our friends of old? Those I met are worthy of my trust and friendship. She ceased her ground-eating trot and quietly reguared the forest before her. Each tree, path, stream and creek were familiar to her. A mournful sigh came from her before she resumed her stride.   
  
Once within the confines of the forest, she reduced her stride. Her hooves found the very path Lord Elrond knew. Not a sound came from her as she continued.   
  
Thunderbird looked up sharply as his daughter entered the village. Leaping over, he grabbed her arm and slapped her. "E culare sonya las valoshi sho freasta!"   
  
She pulled away from him, glaring. His gaze fell to the glistening gemstone she wore. "E'ra ah armarhea!"   
  
He snapped, pushing her into his longhouse. "Loatta siya'la masar orela!" The chief left her in the house. "Nanar era E debin vadi kilan harea?"  
  
Inside, Lightning Bird stood, rivited with rage. Anari disae'la riv se? Riharan ri'la viagorana! She finally strode over to her bed and curled up on it, staring into the fire. Her betrothed, Dehara Mar, had introduced her to meditation, and right now she needed to calm down before she kicked her father all the way to Gondor.  
  
A hand touched her shoulder lightly. "Lijanora? Nanar'iya loatta?" Dehara Mar inquired.   
  
"Ah juerla. Lord Elrond nuellare mey elafa-feyla." She rose to her hooves, meeting his gaze easily. Niether of them were happy with the arranged marriage at first, but now they grew to love eachother.  
  
"Elafas?" He queried.   
  
Lightning Bird nodded.   
  
Distant Storm relaxed; she hadn't been in any danger with them. "Nanar eleyre therea?" He gestured to the faint marks on her shoulder and quarter; marks that her father hadn't seen.   
  
"Ah uroc." Her simple explaination calmed him down before anger could rise in him. Some huntresses weren't quite so open with their injuries, and here she told him what had caused hers.   
  
A sigh escaped him as he drew her into a hug. The light of the fire danced over his clear bay hide, with the white spotted blanket. He released her and left, his black legs moving silently through the air. His next assignment would take him to Hobbiton, in the Shire.   
  
Lightning Bird watched him as he vanished into the distance. He is meant to be a watcher. A son of the line of Fire. 


	4. A Gem is Born

In Her Youth  
  
Echo the Nymph  
Disclaimer: Tolkien owns his work, I don't.  
  
  
Nine times, the seasons passed.  
Deep in the forests green,   
Two youngsters grew.  
The wandering child  
And her Betrothed  
Leave Harlindon behind.  
Yet another life within the wandering child  
As the others are watched by their grandfather.  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 4  
  
  
  
  
  
"Thunderbird isn't very happy about this." Distant Storm declared as they stood on the edge of Harlindon. The grasslands beyond were a soft spring green in that month of May. White clouds were scattered in the blue sky and the sun cast its golden light over all the land.  
  
"Who cares?" Lightning Bird stepped out of the shadows and into the warm light of the sun. "He's kept me from visiting Imladris fro three years. Besides, Lightning Strike is too young to make this trip and he's besotted with her. Come on!" She sprang into an easy gallop, her pregnant belly swaying in the motion. He chuckled, chasing after her. They froliced over the hills, leaving no trace of their presence behind.  
  
Three days had passed since their journey over the grasslands. Their pace had put them within a stone's throw of Rivendell. The trees around them were bright with the soft spring green in the predawn gloom. Distant Storm turned his attention to his mate's gait which was still light and full of spring.   
  
She froze then backed inot the brush, with him following. They wre passed by a rather angry looking man riding a pitch black horse. His white robes and metal staff instantly marked him as a wizard. "Saruman's not a wanderer; so why is he so far away from Isenguard?" Her question hung in the air unanswered as he left the area and they continued onward.  
  
A sharp hiss escaped her as she froze in her tracks. Distant Storm turned only to see a contraction ripple across her spotted flanks.  
  
"Nanar di E di?" He cried.  
  
"Get me to Imladris. Lord Elrond knows enough about centaurs to help." Lightning Bird suppressed the contractions as best she could as she extended her gait. Giving birth alone and on the trail wasn't something she wanted to happen. The huntress had a hard time with her first two children.   
  
Distant Storm eyed the cliff near his hooves uneasily as he helped his mate along the narrow path. Oh, it wouldn't seem narrow to a Riharan, but to him it was. Lightning Bird slipped and found herself steadied by her mate. It seemed like hours later when they arrived, yet the sun was not yet above the horizon.  
  
Lord Elrond instantly recognized her and what was happening so he approached. With their help, she made it to a room that had been prepared for them.   
  
The contractions rippling across her flanks became closer together. She hissed again before she could speak. "My water already broke."   
  
Distant Storm saw her trust in the elf-lord and turned to comforting her. He started; they were speaking in Sindaran! What other languages did she know?  
  
Elrond continued encouraging her until the foal was completely out. As dawn's first light broke over the horizon, a healthy squall relieved all that were in the room. After cleaning her and wrapping her in a warm, yet sheer, blanket around her, he handed her to her mother. "A lovely daughter." He set to work cleaning the slight mess that had been made. Luckily for them, they had been prepared for her to give birth soon after her arrival.   
  
The sheer cloth revealed a baby fuzz that was a light golden bay. Her tail and hair were as black as a raven's wings as well as her hooves. White sprinkled across her quarters and barrel like little snow flurries. Her eyes, slightly unfocused, were as blue as sapphires from below the earth.   
  
"To our people, she is Phoenix. Her name is Phoenix Tinuviel, for song and medicine are her strengths." Lightning Bird brought her baby close, singing a Sindaran lullabye. Phoenix fell asleep to the sound of elvish music after her first meal.   
  
Then, the new mother rolled to an upright position. "Distant Storm, this is Lord Elrond of Rivendell. Lord Elrond, this is Distant Storm." Her introduction broke the ice between them and they greeted eachother politely.  
  
"And here I thought stallions and elves did not get along all that well." Humor was evident in his voice, should you know him well enough.  
  
"Estel!" Lightning Bird cried, happily greeting the Dunedain. She introduced him to her mate and new child, whom was still sleeping. She rose to her hooves and they walked outside. What they spoke of inside the garden startled him. That, and the exsquisit beauty of the garden. Trees shot to incredible heights, green beyound believing, even in this early morning hour. A babbling brook soothed the nerves and pristine white flowers blossomed from vines.   
  
"I believe what we are speaking of is beyond Distant Storm." Elrond's comment drew him back to the present.  
  
Lightning Bird shifted her grip on her child with the ease of practice. "He was never told of the Rings of Power." They settled onto benches so that she could explain. He would believe his mate better than they right now. She sighed, drawing in her thoughts. "The world has changed. I feel it in the earth, I feel it in the water, I can smell it in the air. Much of what once was is lost, for none now live who remember." Her tone was from far-off, Maia-like, Elrond thought. Much like Prairie Song and Sacred Smoke. "It began with the forging of the Rings of Power. Three were given to the Elves. Immortal, wisest and fairest of all creatures. Seven were given to the Dwarf Lords, great miners and craftsmen of the mountain halls."   
  
She drew a steadying breath before continuing. "And Nine, nine were gifted to the race of men, who above all else, desire power. For bound within these rings was the strength and will to govern each race. And they were all of them decieved, for another ring was made. Deep in the lands of Mordor, in the fires of Mount Doom, Sauron forged in secret a Master Ring, to rule all the others. One Ring to Rule them All. And into this ring he poured his malice, his hatred and his will to dominate all life."  
  
Her gaze shifted to the eastern sky, almost as though she expected it to be glowing with the unearthly glow of Mount Doom. "One by one, the Fee Lands of Middle Earthfell to the Ring's power. But there were some who resisted. A Last Alliance of Men, Elves, and the Thirty Huntresses, confronted the darkness on the fields of Mordor. But the power of the Ring could not be denied. It was in this hour when all hope had faded, that Isildur, son of the King took up his father's sword. Sauron, the enemy of the free peoples of Middle-Earth was vanquished. Thus the ring passed to Isildur, who had this one chance to destroy the evil forever. Yet the hearts of men are easily corrupted and the Ring of Power has a will of its own."  
  
This time her gaze seemed to come back to Imladris slightly, but it was still very distant as she cradled Phoenix gently. "Isildur took the Ring and it betrayed him, unto his death. History became legend and legend, myth. Some things that should not be forgotten were and for 2,500 years the Ring passed out of all knowledge. Until, by chance, it ensnared a new bearer. The creature Gollum took the Ring deep into the Misty Mountains and there it consumed him." Her eyes lost the far-seeing gaze that had been in them. At last she came back to Imladris. "Now where the One Ring is, not even the Wizards of the West know."  
  
Elrond felt a slight tug on his hair and glanced down. Phoenix had her little hand in his hair and had tugged to get his attention. She reached out to him unsteadily and Lightning Bird handed her over. "It seems that she wants to see you, mi'feyla."   
  
He gently gathered the baby centaur in his arms. "Hello, little Tinuviel." She has a voice that is most certainly blessed by Lord Ulmo. And that riddle that Sacred Smoke posed to Smeagol... By the Valar! She is the Gem! Softly, he whispered a few Sindaran words to her and recieved a happy baby's chuckle. Already she understood although she would have to learn the languages of elves. "Lightning Bird, perhaps you should teach her the Elven tongues." The mare nodded, as that had been her plan all along. 


	5. Swords of Darkness

In Her Youth  
  
Echo the Nymph  
Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien's characters  
  
  
  
  
The seasons cycled thrice more  
Before her third year,   
They went north.   
Changes had come to   
The little Gem  
And she had grown to   
An adorable filly  
With an incredible destiny....  
  
  
  
Chapter 5  
  
  
  
  
Lightning Bird stood upright after she finished with her pack. "Tinuviel, come here!" Her call prompted her daughter to leave off her catlike frolicking and she trotted over. Her gold-and-white coat shone under the sunlight, the shade having deepened over the seasons. The pattern she bore had also changed, becoming more like ivy leaves in golden light. Her eyes were as blue as sapphires, having not faded since her birth.  
  
"Nanar, Mama?" The filly's voice was light and sweet, reminiscent of song.   
  
Her parents smiled gently. She was always eager to accompany them on their trips and now they could take her.   
  
"We are going north. There are some friends of ours we would like you to meet." Lightning Bird gently untangled her daughter's hair before braiding it once more. Happily, the filly accepted the pack her father handed to her. Phoenix wearied of the village. Her dreams whispered of a beautiful place, where plants grew in strength and green beauty. A place of peace and elven song.  
  
The little Princess slipped her hand into her mother's as they left at an easy trot. Root-ribbed paths and dappled sunlight did not hinder them as they knew the forest as their own. Cautiously, the small group emerged from their shadowy haven.   
  
A small gasp of delight came from Phoenix. Soft spring green grasses were only beginning to deepen to their summer hue. Rolling hills spread as far as the eye could see. The topaz blue sky stretched above them, littered with cottony-white clouds. "So beautiful, Mama!" Her young voice was hushed in awe. Never before had she seen the grasslands of Eriador as she did now.   
  
"Yes, little Tinuviel. Beautiful indeed, and very different from Harlindon." Lightning Bird glanced at her mate who then drew out a well-made stone knife. He tied the belt that held it around his daughter's waist. She blinked at him with confusion, then smiled.   
  
The adults struck up a ground eating trot over the rolling hills, their daughter taking three little strides to their one. Phoenix frisked about them like a kitten, singing the Sindaran children's songs she'd known for months now. Her parents' plan of teaching her those tongues had worked to perfection. A flash of raven black streamed out behind her as she began to outdistance her parents.   
  
Startled, she slid to a halt; her force throwing small stones and pieces of dirt into the air. A gentle laugh calmed her. Her father took no alarm, so she needn't. "He's only a hobbit, Phoenix." Distant Storm looked at him sharply. "I've never seen him this far south before."  
  
A smile came to her face. "Feylaya?"   
  
Lightning Bird nodded, then gazed over the distance to him. "You mustn't startle him, little Tinuviel. He may be a nice hobbit, but he has seen the Battle of the Five armies. He is skilled with that little sword of his, and fears that he is followed."  
  
Gently they herded her northward, leaving plenty of space between themselves and the hobbit. He noticed them, and the filly they were guiding. She regarded him with undisguised wonder, yet politely didn't try to approach them and went on his way.  
  
The sun began to fall under the horizon, hours later, casting brilliant hues of red and orange over the western sky.   
  
Lightning Bird grew tense, feeling a darkness that threatened her child. "Viagora!" She hissed. The huntress thrust her daughter into an abandoned den that had been made by true wolves. Then she spoke in Quenya. "Stay there, little Tinuviel. Don't make a sound." Frightened, the little filly nodded.   
  
Harsh, guttural laughter met their ears; orcs had them surrounded! Finally, one of them spoke in the common tongue. "Where is the Gem?" Nothing could make such a voice sound beautiful.   
  
"We carry no Gem with us." Distant Storm snarled, feigning ignorance. He knew that whom they referred to was his daughter. Swords flashed in the dying light as they were drawn. Familiar sounds of her father drawing his daggers and heating them with fire magic, and her mother drawing her oaken quarterstaff didn't calm her. She knew this fight was going to be serious and deadly.  
  
From her little, dark hiding place she could see all that happened on the field of battle. Tears built up in her eyes as her parents were wounded time and time again. Bright red blood and blood as black as night fell to the ground, soaking into the earth.   
  
An orc let out an enraged battle cry as he struck her father down. He fell to the ground, blood gushing out of the lethal wound.   
  
Phoenix placed her little hand over her mouth to keep herself from crying out. Then she cocked her head. What was that sound? Hoof beats! A horse was coming, swiftly bearing its rider to the place of engagement. Something from deep within told her that he wouldn't get here in time to help her mother.  
  
Finally, an orc snarled again. "Last chance, Elven Star. Where is the Gem?" 


	6. Ashes of Tragedy

In Her Youth  
  
Echo the Nymph  
Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien's characters.  
  
  
  
Danger brought by orcs  
Came with the dying light  
Her father fallen, going to Mandos  
Her mother standing firm  
Defying her enemy to the end.  
Coming from the distance,  
A Dunedain of Numenor  
A Ranger of the North.   
Yet danger still cometh   
From swords of darkness...  
  
  
  
Chapter 6  
  
  
  
  
"Uroc, sonya'ri ah belath." Lightning Bird spat, showing nothing but courage in the face of the enemy. The remaining orcs ganged up on her and she fought fiercely, whittling their numbers down to one. One that struck the fatal blow to her and knocking her to the earth.   
  
Phoenix slid back, not wanting to be seen. Suddenly, the earth above her was peeled back with a sickening sound. A pair of strong arms grabbed her and she shrieked. Her wild struggles were those of a frightened child. She could not be the Gem. Phoenix lashed out with her right front leg, and the orc slashed it open along the inside. Her pained cry nearly made the hidden Watcher interfere. But his orders were not to, only to keep an eye on the family.  
  
Phoenix yanked her flint knife out of the sheath and plunged it into his hand. Black blood fell from the wound she'd inflicted on him like rain. She jerked her knife back and sent the blade deep between his ribs. The orc snarled a vicious word, dropped the child and kicked her.  
  
Stunned as she was from the blow, she couldn't get away.   
  
"Yrch!" A voice cried. The creature turned slightly and was decapitated with a single strike. Blackness swam through the filly's vision as she began to loose consciousness. "Lijanora Tara!" He knelt next to her, examining her wounds.   
  
"Estel, don't." Her voice was soft, he had to struggle to hear her. Weakly, she removed her necklace and thrust it into his hands. "Estel, Dunedain of Numenor, save my daughter. She is the Gem; the one who will rise from the ashes of tragedy." Lightning Bird's last breath escaped her. Sadly, the Ranger closed her unseeing eyes.  
  
Estel rose to his feet and approached the filly just as she lost consciousness. He cleaned the gash on her leg, using some of the athelas he had with him to kill off any chance of infection. Gently, he stitched the wound shut and placed a poultice over it before wrapping a bandage around her leg. His gaze fell to the dead orc near her.   
  
Estel spoke softly, in Sindaran, as he lifted her. "You have an amazing amount of courage, little Tinuviel." The Ranger fastened her onto his horse before retrieving his sword and cleaning it before sheathing it. He began to lead his horse towards Harlindon as his hand fell to the pouch he wore at his side. The necklace within would go to Phoenix Tinuviel when she became old enough and had proven herself a true friend.  
  
A Sindaran mourning chant rose from him as he mourned for two fallen elf-friends. Estel stopped on the outskirts of Harlindon and left Phoenix where he knew they'd find her. "Tilla sebin, Tinuviel." The Ranger then mounted his horse and set off for Rivendell to let them know what had happened.  
  
Within the filly he had so recently saved, a light shone with a strength that was unnatural for a centaur. Phoenix Tinuviel was a treasure unto her people, yet she was one they would loose through jealousy. 


End file.
